


even when i'm all alone

by Clare_Hope



Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: Amnesia problems, Between Stolen Century and Gerblins, Canon-Typical Violence, Carey shows up for a bit, Davenport and Lucretia's untold decade, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, I call this fic sad gnome hours, Minor Ableism, Nightmares, post-Lucretia's Wonderland
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-24
Updated: 2020-10-31
Packaged: 2021-03-08 22:14:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 9,972
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27173665
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Clare_Hope/pseuds/Clare_Hope
Summary: With a mind full of static, only able to repeat his own name, Davenport manages to survive on this world that feels so unfamiliar to him with the help of Lucretia, who feelsso familiar.
Relationships: Davenport & The Director | Lucretia
Comments: 34
Kudos: 31





	1. there's an old, familiar silence

**Author's Note:**

> I've been referring to this fic as "sad gnome hours" in my head and to my friends, so that should let you know what kind of fic it is, lol! The title and chapter names are all from Lindsey Stirling's "Love Goes On and On", which gives me the biggest Davenport vibes. Thanks to my lovely friends who continued to encourage me to finish this fic! Hope you enjoy!
> 
> (Warning for the whole fic for Davenport's memory loss and subsequent mental health issues such as panic attacks, nightmares, disassociation, grief, etc.)

Static.

Static filled his field of vision and his hearing. Somehow, he could  _ feel _ the static on his skin. Panicked, he scraped at the fabric with his fingers and gasped. He was choking on it, this absence of everything. He tried to wail, but all that came out was a broken little sob.

Little snatches of images filtered in through the static after a while. Someone was sitting across from him, a blank look on his face, mildly confused, like he hadn’t quite woken up yet. This person was ringed in static. His eyes were static. His clothes were static.

There was only one fact in this void, one piece of knowledge that could be salvaged.  _ I’m Davenport _ , he told himself, and it was a comfort. He had  _ something _ . He was something.

The person across from him had no name.

Someone else came into the room, just a dark shadow against the static. The scream she made was loud enough to break through the interference in Davenport’s head.

“Oh, C------, what’s happening?”

There was a word there that Davenport couldn’t understand. It caused him so much pain to hear it and try to comprehend it that he just wrapped his arms around his head and tried to hide, rocking backwards and forwards. “I’m Davenport!” he insisted.

“Dav...Davenport, oh…” The figure was sobbing harder than he was. “Oh, no, oh, shit, this wasn’t supposed to...it’s going to be alright, I promise, it won’t be for long! And it’ll settle, I promise, M----- was fine after a few minutes…” She touched his shoulder, but he jerked away. “Davenport…”

“I’m  _ Davenport _ !”

“I know, I know who you are. Shhh, it’s going to be alright soon. Just breathe. Oh...I have to help M----, I...T---- and M----- are sitting down, I made M----- go to sleep, but I have to help M---- now too, and Davenport, I don’t know where B---- went, and I’m so worried for him…”

Terrified, Davenport pushed this person away. She kept saying words that didn’t make any  _ sense _ .

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. I’m going to fix this,” she said. “I’m sorry, Davenport, I didn’t mean to hurt any of you, I love you, it’s going to be alright.” Then she moved out of his vision, and he fell back into pure static.

_ I’m Davenport. I’m Davenport. Davenport. Davenport. Davenport… _

Eventually, she returned. He didn’t know how long it took, because time didn’t seem to have any meaning anymore. But she said his name, and it was enough to make him look up. His face was wet with tears.

“Davenport, can you stand up? I think I have to get you off the S---------- before you’ll start to feel any better. Come with me, we’ll find somewhere else. I...I found the boys places to go, places they’ll feel at home. Let’s see if we can’t find you somewhere, too, alright?”

He didn’t move.

“Please, Davenport.”

Slowly, he uncurled his body and stood up shakily. It felt like he had been frozen in that position for hours and hours.

“Thank you,” she said, sounding relieved. “Follow me, alright?”

But trying to look around made him so disoriented and dizzy that he just collapsed back in a heap on the floor, closing his eyes.

“Davenport!” she cried.

He put his palms over his ears.

Careful hands helped him sit up. “Keep your eyes closed,” she said quietly. “It’s alright. I know it must be hard to look at. I...shit, Davenport, I know you hate it, but I’m going to pick you up, alright? I’ll just carry you outside, so you can get some fresh air away from...everything in here.”

Honestly, he didn’t care at this point. She was warm as she lifted him into her arms, and he was freezing, and the static covered his whole brain, but her touch made his heart less heavy. He wished he could remember her name, because he knew that he should know her. He knew that he loved her.

“Here, we’re outside now.”

It was even colder now, but there was a freshness to the air. Davenport opened his eyes. It was dark. The grass stretched out in front of him as he was set down on the ground. He tried to look behind him, but she knelt down and kept him from turning. “Davenport?” he asked.

“What? Yes, I know who you are.”

She didn’t understand. “ _ Davenport _ !” he said emphatically.

“Davenport, what...can you...can you not…?” Sudden horror and guilt took over her face. “Oh, no. No, Davenport. Please tell me you can talk to me, I...I need to know how to help you.”

“Davenport.”

“Is that a no?”

“Davenport!”

“M----- and T---- and M---- were confused, but...but not like this, I don’t...maybe you just need more time. I understand. Here, let’s...let’s sit and look at the stars.” She sat back on her heels and looked up at the sky.

He followed suit. There were no clouds in the deep black sky, velvet and clear in the moonless night. The stars stopped the static from cutting him off entirely. It was still present, but not as overwhelming. Some parts of his mind cleared after a while, letting him breathe. “Davenport,” he whispered, and he looked at his companion. Her face was more distinct now, even in the darkness. He could see the pain in her eyes, which were slowly but steadily spilling tears down her smooth brown cheeks. Concerned, he reached up and wiped away some of the tears. “Davenport?”

“What?” She looked back at him. “Oh, are...are you feeling any better? You look calmer.”

He nodded.

“See, you just needed to get out of the ship,” she whispered, more to herself than to him. “You’ll be alright. Can you...can you talk more now?”

“Davenport...”

“...no, that’s alright. I won’t rush you.” She sighed deeply.

Feeling somehow like he was letting this woman down, he pulled his hand back. After hesitating, he gestured to her and said, “Davenport?”

A few more tears appeared. “I’m so sorry, Dav, I don’t know what you want.”

He gestured to her again.

“What about me?”

“Davenport,” he said, putting his hand on his chest. Then he touched her knee and made a questioning sound.

“Ah,” she said, choking up. “I don’t know if you’ll understand my name, Davenport.”

“Davenport!” he pleaded. He needed to know who she was.

“I’m...I’m Lucretia. Did that make sense?”

_ Lucretia _ . He didn’t know why that name made his heart swell with...pride? But it did. He wanted to repeat it to her. “...L...Davenport.”

“It’s a start,” Lucretia said with a sad smile. “Come on, Davenport, we need to find somewhere to stay the night, alright? We...we both need sleep, I’m sure.”

He took her hand as he stood up, holding on tightly. If he managed to get separated from her, he knew he would never be able to find her again.


	2. when i'm lost inside my heart

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Slight warning: This is the chapter for which the "minor ableism" tag is relevant.

He was sitting on the edge of a bed, staring at a blank white wall. It was only slightly more real-feeling than the blank white wall in his head and the static in his ears.

They were in a house now. Had they ever not been in a house? More and more, the concept of a time before being found by Lucretia was becoming foreign.

Davenport looked down at himself, glaring a little at the red pants he was wearing. He seemed to only have white shirts and red pants, and he couldn't wear his red jacket anymore. It caused too much static against his skin. But all of these clothes were uncomfortable, and he wished he could go and buy new ones. Unfortunately, communicating with anyone was too difficult to really bother with it. He had managed to complain to Lucretia about it, and she promised to help, but that was a few days ago and there were still no new clothes.

"Davenport?" Lucretia knocked at the door softly. "I'm going out for a bit, if you want to come with me."

Looking around the little town they lived in made the static quieter. Davenport gladly came to the door and went out into town with Lucretia. He took deep breaths of the clear spring air and listened to the conversations people were having with words that he couldn't quite manage to use. On especially good days, he might be able to come up with one or two spoken words. On bad days, he was lucky if he could form his mouth around his own name.

Today wasn't especially good, but it wasn't especially bad, either. He waved at a few of their neighbors who were sitting at a table in the little park in the middle of town. Lucretia headed into a small shop that Davenport had never been to before. It was a tailor's shop, and a human man sat at the counter. Davenport was drawn to a display of neckties (which were all too long for him) as Lucretia went up to talk to the man.

"Good morning, Lucretia!"

"Good morning, Benn. You said my order would be ready today?"

"Ah, yeah, for your...friend?" Benn laughed uncomfortably. "That him there?"

"Yes," Lucretia replied swiftly.

"He, uh, hasn't been by to say hello or get measured, so I can't be 100% sure they'll fit--"

"I gave you examples of his clothes."

"Yes, but--"

"I'm sure they'll fit fine, thank you."

There was an awkward silence. "I think it's very...kind, what you're doing," said Benn.

"Oh?" Lucretia said icily.

"Takin' care of the poor guy like this. I mean, I won't pry, you don't have to tell me how you...became responsible for him or anything, but I admire ya for it."

"And why would you  _ admire _ me for ordering clothes for my friend?"

"Well, he is a bit...simple, isn't he?"

Lucretia inhaled sharply.

To be perfectly honest, Davenport wasn't too bothered by the man's statements. He would probably have rathered that Lucretia not stand up for him, but he knew she wouldn't let that go. He left the tie stand and came over to stand next to her, looking up skeptically at the tailor with one eyebrow raised. The man looked disconcerted as he met Davenport's gaze.

"Davenport is possibly the least simple person I have ever met," Lucretia responded. "He is more intelligent than anyone I know, and happens to have a speech difficulty. You should be ashamed of yourself for talking that way about  _ anyone _ , but especially someone standing ten feet away and listening to you."

Now Benn just looked guilty. "Sorry," he told Lucretia.

"What are you apologizing to  _ me _ for?"

"Um…" Benn glanced down at Davenport again. "I'm sorry. Your friend is right, that was rude of me."

"Davenport!" said Davenport, nodding.

"We'll be taking the clothing now." Lucretia picked the box up from the counter. "Here's your payment." And she dropped a small bag of coins in its place.

"Um…" Benn pulled out a few gold coins from the bag and pushed them back towards her. "Consider it a discount, for me being thoughtless."

Lucretia considered that for a moment and took the coins, then left without another word.

"Davenport," he said to Benn with a polite nod, and he rushed after Lucretia. He was curious to find out what was in the box.

"I wasn't entirely sure what you would want to wear," Lucretia told him once they had returned home. "You...I never saw you in anything other than the uniform unless we were in disguise. So I got a few options. You can go through them and let me know what you like, if you want more of anything." She left him in his room with the box, and he opened it.

The comfortable, soft grey pajamas were what he took out first. He was quite drawn to them, but that might have just been because he wanted to take a nap. Further down, there were some tunic and trouser combinations that he didn't hate. They were all some shade of blue, green, or purple. He was glad about that. He never wanted to wear red again.

At the bottom of the box, there was a plain black and white suit. That was what he put on. It was comfortable, and made him feel at home somehow. He walked out of the room to find Lucretia, smiling.

"Oh, I had a feeling you'd like that one," she said. "You look…you look great, Ca...Davenport."

He spun around to show her how well the suit fit. Benn had been a bit rude, but was clearly a very good tailor.

Lucretia's smile faltered.

"Hm?" he asked.

"Nothing, nothing."

He looked at her sharply. "Davenport."

"It's just…" She hesitated. "Well, nothing. You look like you could be going off to perform some opera again, that's all."

Momentarily, Davenport had a flash of deja vu. As he frowned and tried to figure out why that felt so familiar, pain like a knife's point sliced behind his temples. He cried out and grabbed his head.

"No! Shit, I didn't mean to...Davenport, breathe, it's alright. Don't worry about it, please. I didn't mean anything by what I said, it was nothing, I was just...don't try to think too hard about it," Lucretia pleaded.

His head pounding, he stumbled forward and sunk down to the ground in front of her. She dropped to her knees and caught him.

"Think about something else," she suggested. "Think...think about the other clothes in the box, did you like the rest of it?"

It hurt almost too much to concentrate, but for Lucretia, he would try. He nodded.

"It's good to know I don't have too awful of taste," she said, trying to joke.

Davenport laughed, but it came out as more of a whimper. He clutched at his temples. He wasn't thinking about Lucretia's statement anymore, but the pain was still fading very slowly. He groaned and collapsed against her.

"I'm here, I'm here. I'm so sorry, Davenport, I need to be more careful about what I say." Lucretia always seemed less-than- comfortable pulling him into a hug, but she was even more careful than usual now. It felt like she was worried that she might break him if she held him too tightly.

As soon as the pain died away into something less blinding, Davenport sighed and patted her arm. "Davenport," he mumbled tiredly, wanting to reassure her that there were no hard feelings, and also, even though his head did strange things sometimes, he wasn't  _ fragile _ .

"Are you alright?" she asked, pulling back to look at him.

He nodded and rubbed his eyes.

"Is the headache gone?"

Davenport hesitated and gave a noncommittal hand wave. "Davenport?" He glanced back towards his room.

"Do you want to go lie down for a while?"

Nodding again, he started heading into his room. Before he laid down, he changed into the grey pajamas. Carefully, with practiced hands, he folded and pressed and hung up the various pieces of the suit. Even though he felt lost in his mind and heart most of the time, he was always glad when his body remembered how to do something new.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! I love you! <3 ~Martin


	3. i can't hear the voice inside me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, welcome back! :D More sad gnome hours incoming! <3

The sky was getting darker as the evening progressed. Davenport glanced out the window from where he was sitting on the ground, wrapped in an abundance of blankets, waiting for Lucretia to come home.

She had been gone for almost a week now, after saying that she had to check up on...something Davenport couldn't understand. It frustrated him when she talked like that. If she wouldn't insist on speaking so incomprehensibly, maybe he would actually know what she was talking about. He didn't have the same problem when anyone  _ else _ spoke...except the voice inside his head. He couldn't usually understand those words either. Sometimes he could almost form a thought into words, but by the time it made it to his mouth, more often than not it came out as just his own name.

The little house was cold. He knew how to light the fireplace, but since Lucretia had left, his hands were shaking too much for him to trust himself with a match. Once, he thought, he would have been able to light a fire much easier. Or at least ask someone else to do it. But he couldn't remember how anymore.

Anyway, that's why he had pulled all of the blankets out of the closet and into the living room. His own bedroom got too cold because of all the windows he never wanted to close. He wanted to fall asleep watching the stars, even in the winter.

The front door unlocked. "Davenport, I'm back," called Lucretia. "Are you alright?"

He smiled as she entered, leaning tiredly on her staff. Her curly black hair was hidden under a blue scarf and the hood on her warm jacket.

"It's freezing in here, didn't you want to light a fire?" she said, frowning.

Davenport shrugged. "Davenport." He held up his trembly hands.

"Oh, no. I'm sorry, I should have fixed up something better than that old fireplace. Here, I'll light one now." Lucretia took off her jacket and hung it on the peg on the wall, then knelt down by the fireplace. "I'm glad you got all the blankets out."

Enough of that, Davenport wanted to know where she had gone. He struggled for a second before finding the word, "Trip? Davenport!"

"I just went to check on M---- and M----- and T----.” 

There were some noises Davenport couldn't understand. He narrowed his eyes. 

"They're doing well. I know you don't know why, but that should make you pretty happy."

Davenport did not feel particularly happy. He also didn't feel happy about the fact that Lucretia was telling him how he should feel.

Noticing the silence, Lucretia turned her head once she had a nice fire going. "I'm sorry," she said softly. "That was a stupid thing to say."

"...Davenport," he replied. He gave her a little smile to show that he wasn't really angry.

She smiled back. She didn't look very happy, either. "It's almost Candlenights, Davenport. What do you think we should do?"

He wanted to get excited about that. He loved Candlenights, he was pretty sure. He had some vague memories about warm fires and good food and mulled wine. But as he opened his mouth to express his excitement, he felt his eyes spill over with hot tears.

"Oh, no--" Lucretia gasped, putting her hand to her mouth. "Davenport, no, what did I say? What's wrong?"

He...didn't know. He didn't know why he was crying. He didn't know what he was feeling.

"Please, please don't be upset, I don't...I'm sorry, Davenport, I'm sorry!" Lucretia was close to tears herself suddenly as she moved closer to him and put her hands on his shoulders.

"D-Davenport," he choked out. Hands trembling, he reached up to cover his face as he sobbed. "Davenport!"

He felt the blankets around him being pulled tighter, and then Lucretia was hugging him close. "I'm sorry," she whispered again. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. I know, I don't feel much like celebrating this year either. I'm so sorry. Please, Ca...Davenport, please don't cry…" She was crying too now.

Davenport recognized the devastation in her voice. It was reflecting something deep inside him that he couldn't see, could barely feel, but was somehow expressing anyway. He felt numb. His whole body shook with harsh sobs, but he couldn't even feel the sadness. Discomfort and fear were the only emotions available to him. He pressed closer to Lucretia. Whatever was happening to him, she would keep him safe.

The warmth of the new fire was slowly stealing through the room, but Lucretia was shaking. "Shhh," she murmured. "I know, I know. Please don't cry. I...I know it's my fault, but I can't bear it. Davenport, please…"

He wanted to stop crying, but he didn't have any control right now. He heard his own gasps and whimpers like someone else was making them, like they came from someone else's pain. He couldn't reach far enough to find them and help.

Lucretia rocked back and forth. "Shhh," she said again. "Shhh, it's...it's going to be alright."

Normally, Davenport would be irritated by someone trying to soothe him like a child. He couldn't bring himself to be irritated now, though. Lucretia was stroking his hair and speaking softly and somehow, though he couldn't reach the feelings that were making him break down like this, she could. He could feel the knot inside him loosening. His sobs grew less broken.

Lucretia was calming down as well. "It'll be alright," she whispered. "By...by next Candlenights, for sure, we'll be back together."

Was someone missing? Was that why the thought of having a celebration felt so wrong? But even as those thoughts entered his mind, they floated away and he couldn't even recall hearing himself think them in the first place.

Well, Lucretia was here. Whatever reason there was for the emotions that had bubbled up, it couldn't have been too important. The tears didn't quite stop falling yet, but Davenport stopped caring.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i...sad.


	4. so i look up to the stars

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> aaaand chapter four!

Davenport woke up with his face damp with sweat and tears. The memory of a static-filled nightmare pressed into his mind and he sat up, panting. He put his hands to his heart. It was beating very quickly.

As quietly as he could, he slipped out of his room and down the hallway. He didn't want to wake Lucretia, who had been more tired and distracted than usual lately. Nightmares were bad, but he could usually calm himself down by sitting under the stars for a few minutes.

Except, when he opened the front door, he was greeted by a clap of thunder. There were storm clouds gathering. The sky was turning black as the clouds rolled in. Davenport stared up in horror as the stars disappeared.

He had the instant and inescapable feeling that he should be going somewhere else  _ very fast _ . It was enough to send him into a panic. He cried out. There was somewhere he had to go, somewhere he had to be, but he  _ couldn't remember _ \--

Lucretia. Lucretia would know what to do. She always knew what was happening, even when Davenport couldn't figure it out. She would remember, and they could get to safety.

He slammed the door behind him and ran through the house. "Davenport!" he shouted as he flung open Lucretia's bedroom door.

She was already sitting up, woken by the noise. "What's wrong?!" she gasped.

"Davenport, Davenport,  _ Davenport _ !" he said frantically, and pointed at the window.

Lucretia got out of bed. Peering out the window, she said, "I don't see anything, Davenport."

Frustrated, he grabbed her arm and pulled her to the front door. He opened it and pointed at the sky at the same time that the first raindrops began to fall. The clouds had almost entirely obscured the stars now. They were running out of time. They needed to  _ go _ , or--

"It's...it's just a rainstorm. Is something else--"

Davenport started gesturing wildly, trying to indicate to her that they needed to  _ leave _ , they needed to head to safety, or else everything would be over. The storm was too big.

"No, stop--calm down, Davenport, I don't understand--what  _ exactly _ are you trying to get me to notice?" Lucretia asked.

How could she sound so calm when everything was ending? Davenport jabbed a finger up at the sky again.

"The clouds?"

He nodded.

"They're just clouds."

He shook his head emphatically.

"There's more? Okay, what else?"

Davenport pointed up again. Wind blew some of the rain at him and he shrank back into the house, shivering.

"What else is...the stars?" guessed Lucretia.

Nodding, Davenport put his hand over his eyes.

"You can't see the stars. I'm sorry, I can't make the storm--" Lucretia broke off. Softly, she added, "Davenport, did you have a nightmare before you woke up to the storm?"

Not sure why that was relevant, he shrugged and then nodded.

"And then the stars started disappearing," she sighed. She closed the front door and started ushering Davenport back further into the house. A bolt of lightning illuminated the sky outside a window.

"Davenport!" he exclaimed, trying to pull her back to the door again. They had to leave  _ now _ , before it was too late!

"No, I...listen to me, alright? I know what you think is happening, even if you can't remember what you think is happening. And I promise--hear me, I  _ promise _ \--that it's not happening. This is just a normal thunderstorm and everything is going to be fine." Something about the calm certainty in her voice made Davenport relax slightly. Or maybe he was just getting further away from the adrenaline rush of the nightmare.

"Davenport?" he asked, needing to check to be sure she was being honest and knew what she was talking about.

"I'm absolutely sure it's just a storm. Also, it's freezing out here, Davenport. I'm going back to bed." Lucretia shivered. "You should go back to bed too if you can."

He...didn't want to be alone. He followed Lucretia to her bedroom and climbed into the armchair in the corner. A human-sized armchair had plenty of space for him to curl up with a blanket on the seat, so that's what he did.

"That's fine, you're welcome to stay. But I promise, that thing you thought was happening? It's  _ impossible _ now. It just can't happen. It's all just a bad dream," she said as she got into bed. "The storm will be over by tomorrow night and the stars will be right where they've always been. And we'll be here, too. I promise."

Davenport closed his eyes. He was looking forward to seeing the stars tomorrow, and checking to make sure that they were all still there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> These are the shortest two chapters, I think! (And chapter five is my favorite, because I love pain and making myself Very sad.) Hope you enjoyed! I love you! <3


	5. there is darkness ever waiting

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was probably my favorite chapter to write, just because Lucretia's Wonderland experience has always kinda fascinated me, since we know so little about it. Anyway, enjoy! <3

The house was empty when Davenport got up that morning. He searched for Lucretia for almost an hour with no luck, and he was starting to get very worried when he discovered a locked box in his own room, on his bedside table, where he hadn't thought to look before.

There was a note next to the box. He recognized Lucretia's handwriting and picked up the note, frowning.

_ Davenport, _

_ I'm going to be away for a little while. It shouldn't take very long. If all goes well, I should be back within a few days. _

_ Please keep an eye on this box. It's enchanted, and the lock will not open unless I'm not going to come back. In the event that something happens to me, you'll need to open the box. There are more instructions inside, but you can't read them yet. _

_ I hope to see you very soon. _

_ If I don't, then C------, I'm so, so sorry. I hope you can succeed where I failed. _

_ All love, _

_ Lucretia _

Davenport clutched the letter to his chest. He closed his eyes tightly and identified his emotion as  _ dread _ .

Why had Lucretia left him? Why hadn't she taken him with her, or at least told him before she left? From the sound of her letter, she was going somewhere dangerous. There was a chance, however slim, that she wasn't going to come home.

He felt sick and nauseous. Somehow, this felt familiar. Finding a note left like this for someone to read, to wonder, being left in the dark...it all just felt like this had happened before.

The headache hit him harder than it had in months. With nobody to call out for, nobody to catch him, he just crumpled to the ground. He hid his head in his arms. All he could do was wait.

And so he waited. One day turned into two, and he kept getting more and more afraid that Lucretia wasn't going to come back. The box was still locked, though. He spent hours staring at it anxiously, waiting to see if it would unlatch itself. It never did.

Mid-afternoon on the fourth day, Davenport heard the front door open. Abandoning his position at the box, he ran out into the front room and cried out in horror.

Blood-soaked, unsteady, Lucretia was standing in the doorway. The door closed behind her and she fell to her hands and knees. She coughed. More blood spattered onto the floor. Her dark hair had turned silver, and she looked decades older than she had before she left.

"Davenport!" he exclaimed.

"Dav--" Lucretia coughed again. It was an awful sound. She choked out a sob. "Help--I'm s-so sorry--"

Help. How could he help? Did he know how to help? She was hurt, bleeding, oh, gods, she was losing so much blood, the stains were spreading on her robes and on the floor. Davenport stood frozen for a moment.

Then, just as he was coming to the conclusion that he was the worst person in the world to trust with such a crisis, Davenport started to move. He ran to her and helped her lay down on her side with practiced ease, stroking her hair as he did so. "Davenport," he said reassuringly. "Davenport, Davenport. Davenport!"

Lucretia just kept bleeding.

"Davenport," he promised. He turned and rushed into the bathroom. He had to climb onto the counter, of course, but he managed to find the place where Lucretia kept the small, glowing green and blue healing potions. They didn't have much need for them these days (when had they ever needed them? Davenport wasn't sure). Still, Lucretia had never sold them or given them away 

He gathered up as many bottles as he could carry and hurried back to Lucretia.

"I failed," she told him hoarsely. Blood dripped down her mouth as she spoke.

"Davenport." He placed a healing potion in her hand.

She let it fall without even trying to bring it to her lips. "I can't do this, Dav, I'm so sorry. I'm going to fail. Please, tell them I'm sorry, tell them I didn't mean for it to go on so long…or end like this…"

"Shhh, shhh. Davenport," he told her. As if he was going to let her die. She didn't have the strength to resist him as he put the largest bottle to her mouth and tipped in the contents. She swallowed it. The gash on her forehead closed up most of the way and her breathing got less labored. "Davenport," he said firmly. He pressed a second potion into her hand. This time, she drank it willingly. He hummed his approval and started running his hands over her arms to check for more injuries. As his hands passed over the blood on her robes, it disappeared like it was being siphoned away.

"Davenport, you're...you're using magic," she realized.

This did not seem like the biggest deal right now. He felt Lucretia flinch away in pain when he touched some spots on her back, so he gave her a third potion. All of the visible blood on her clothes had been washed away, and most of her injuries seemed to have disappeared as well. Even so, Lucretia was trembling. Davenport would have guessed that she was freezing if it hadn't been the middle of summer.

"Davenport?" he said softly.

She couldn't seem to answer him. Her breath caught in little sobs.

All of the words that he wanted to say ( _ talk to me, what happened, how can I help, it's going to be alright, Lucretia, I'm here _ ) got stuck somewhere in his mind and couldn't make it to his lips. Of all the issues that his communication problems had caused so far, this might be the most frustrating. "Davenport," he muttered. He took Lucretia's shaking hand. She squeezed tightly in return and said nothing.

Minutes passed and Lucretia didn't become any more responsive. She kept crying almost silently. It was like she didn't want to draw any attention to her distress but she physically couldn't stop weeping. She seemed...broken.

Davenport cradled her head in his hands and tried to make her look up at him. Her eyes weren't very focused. "Davenport...hm." He stood up.

Lucretia's eyes widened and she let out a louder, whimpery sob, reaching for him.

"Davenport, Davenport," he soothed, grabbing her hand again. He tugged and gestured for her to stand up. It wasn't like he could carry her, and he thought it would be better for her to sit down in her own room.

She followed his directions. Tears continued to slide down her cheeks. Lucretia was incredibly unsteady as she walked down the hallway to her bedroom, and Davenport could only provide so much support with her hand on his shoulder. She sat on her bed with a weary sigh and put her arms around her knees.

"Davenport," said Davenport. He gestured at the door and back at the bed, indicating that he would be right back. She nodded resignedly and leaned her head against the wall.

He rushed to the bathroom, got a damp washcloth, and returned to her. She seemed relieved that he had come back. As he climbed up onto the bed next to her, he reached up to wash the stray bloodstains away from her face. Her eyes closed halfway with exhaustion. She leaned into the touch a little.

The trembling seemed bone-deep, and it kept wracking her body with almost violent shivers. When her face was as clean as he could manage, he put the cloth aside and guided her to take off her torn robes and put on clean new pants and a shirt. That seemed to help somewhat, not wearing the clothing that she had been in when...whatever had happened to her happened. But she still kept shivering, and there were still tears overflowing onto her face.

She was in shock, Davenport decided. For some reason, he knew how to help someone who was in shock. He pulled one of the folded blankets from the end of the bed and tucked it tightly around her shoulders. Then he pressed up next to her and put his arms as far around her as he could. Lucretia sobbed a little harder when he started holding her.

"Shhhh," he murmured. "Davenport."

"I don't know what to do, Dav," she whispered brokenly.

He rubbed her back. "Shhhh," he repeated.

"I don't know what to do anymore, I can't do this by myself."

Davenport looked up at her, meeting her eyes. "Davenport," he stated.

Lucretia's lip quivered. "Of course I know I have you, Davenport. But you can't help me with this, not...not like this. Dav, I don't…" She buried her face in her arms and shook with sobs.

"Lu…" Davenport managed.

"They fucked me up so much, Dav, I c-can't...I won't be able to do this on my own anymore, I'm too weak. I can't…" Painful whimpers tore out from deep in her chest.

He could hardly hold back tears as he listened to her sobbing. There was  _ so much _ he wanted to say to her, and it hurt so much that he could do nothing to help. Davenport smoothed the blanket down around her shoulders and rested his head against her arm. "Davenport," he whispered. 

Lucretia leaned into his embrace. He couldn't support her weight comfortably like that, so he let her fall onto her side across his lap. He held her hand and stroked her hair gingerly.

"I'm not strong enough, Davenport," Lucretia breathed. "I'm not strong enough. I failed."

Humming tunelessly, Davenport stroked her hair again. Part of her shivering was probably exhaustion, her body trying to force her to acknowledge how tired she was. He wished she would just rest and let him comfort her.

After a few minutes, she choked on a sob and started coughing. Davenport helped her sit up. She groaned and put her hands on her stomach, still coughing and also sort of retching. He prepared to do some quick cleaning magic, but she didn't throw up. Maybe she didn't have anything in her stomach anyway.

"Davenport," he said, pointing at the door. He mimed drinking some water.

Lucretia nodded, gasping for air between coughs.

He ran to get a glass of water as quickly as he could. Lucretia wasn't coughing as violently when he returned, but she took the water gratefully and had a few sips. Her hands were shaking. If the glass had been filled closer to the top, she would have definitely spilled some. He took the glass back carefully when it looked like she was done. 

She had stopped coughing, but her shoulders were still shaking as she tried to stifle her sobs. "You're too good to me," she said hoarsely.

"Davenport?"

"I don't...I don't deserve…any of what you're doing for me."

Since he couldn't verbally tell her to be quiet and stop being ridiculous, he put a gentle finger to her lips and gave her a soft shove to lay down against the pillows. Like a reflex, her eyes closed. She exhaled, shuddering. Finally,  _ finally _ , she seemed to stop crying. Her breathing slowly evened out.

“I think I’m going to need some help, Davenport,” Lucretia whispered.

“Mm,” he acknowledged. He leaned down and kissed her forehead.

“I…” Her voice trailed off. “I’m tired.”

Davenport nodded, though she couldn’t see him. “Davenport.” He took her hand, holding it tight against his chest.

Lucretia didn’t say anything more as she fell asleep.

There was a fierce, protective fire in Davenport’s heart. Something told him that this wasn’t going to be the last time Lucretia was hurt. He would have to be the one to protect her, even though he didn’t know how.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i love them..... <3


	6. i can feel it in the air

The home in the sky was so much better than the house on the ground. Even if the whole place made his head hurt and static buzzed over his eyes if he went into the wrong room, they were still in the  _ sky _ . Davenport knew he was a gnome, and he knew that gnomes were supposed to be at home underground, but he was never more at home than when he was floating up to the moon in a big glass bubble with Lucretia at his side, the stars vibrant in the night sky above him.

This was what she had been working on for months with the Millers, in their own floating home with the bright white walls and strange mechanical creatures walking around and doing helpful things. It had been good, being somewhere other than the little town they’d been living in for so long. Davenport liked Maureen especially, who spoke in technical language that Davenport  _ somehow _ understood. She never talked down to him, either. She acted like he was just like any other person. Lucas pretty much didn’t talk to him at all, treating him more like he was more like one of the robits. But to be fair, he didn’t seem to treat  _ anyone _ with much respect.

And then they were on the moon, and they didn’t see the Millers much anymore. He couldn’t bring himself to mind, really. There were other people on the moon, in their home in the sky, just going about their lives. 

Lucretia seemed...better. A little less stressed than she had been before. A few times, Davenport even saw her laugh when she was talking to the other people who lived here.

He was wandering down the pathway in front of the Icosahedron one evening when someone almost tripped over him.

“Oh, fuck, hey there! Didn’t see you!”

He smiled good-naturedly as he looked up at the Dragonborn who had bumped into him. Carey. He recognized her--she had done really well in the Initiation test that Lucretia had set up for new people on the moon.

“Whatcha doin’ out here?” she asked. “Do you come here to train too?”

Davenport shrugged. “Davenport.”

“Right, you don’t talk much. That’s cool. Uh, what do you...hey, what do you do here?” asked Carey. She sat down in the middle of the path. Davenport followed her lead. “I just, I’ve never really asked the Director, and nobody’s ever told me.”

“Davenport,” he stated.

“Yeah, you’re Davenport, I know that much.”

He pointed back towards the dome that he lived in, where Lucretia also lived.

“The Director?” Carey guessed.

He nodded.

“You help her out a lot, right? Did you know her before this whole B----- thing?”

Confused, he tilted his head.

“You know?” Carey gestured around. “Oh--hey, you’ve been i--------, right?”

He wrinkled his nose at the static.

“What the fuck?” She was frowning, propping her chin up on her wrist. “That doesn’t make any sense. How could you even be up here without it? It’s super disorienting, isn’t it?”

Davenport didn’t know how to answer that.

“I guess the Director must have her reasons,” she muttered. “But that’s really weird. Anyway, did you know her before...we all lived up here?”

He nodded again.

“So you’ve known her for a while. Do you know how long?”

Davenport started to count on his fingers. He got up to nine years before the static in his mind overtook him and he put his head down in his hands miserably.

“Fuck, that’s okay, I don’t need to know!” Carey said quickly. “But a while, then? It’s just...we’re all wondering...she doesn’t seem to  _ exist _ . Some of us, you know, the S------, they specialize in finding information, and the Director doesn’t have any records before a few years ago. We think she probably erased it, right? She must have been prominent in the R---- ----, but nobody can figure out how.”

Davenport shrugged helplessly.

“Ah, that’s fine. She probably wouldn’t want you telling me even if you  _ could _ . But she’s your friend, right?”

That, Davenport could answer. He smiled as he nodded.

“I’m glad she has a friend, you know? She seems...well, it seems like a lonely job, saving the world.” Carey touched his shoulder. “She’s lucky to have someone like you looking out for her.”

“Davenport!” he agreed.

Carey narrowed her eyes as she looked at him thoughtfully. “Yeah, that’s good. See you, Davenport.” She hopped to her feet and gave a little wave as she headed away.

Several months later, Davenport had climbed to the top of the roof of the dome he and Lucretia lived in to look at the stars. He heard a noise behind him and turned.

“There you are,” sighed Lucretia. Her shoulders were tense. “I have something important to talk to you about, Davenport, will you come inside with me?”

Warily, he stood up. “Davenport?”

“Just come inside,” she insisted.

Davenport followed her back down into the building, through the room with her seat and portrait, and into her office. She gestured at the chair in front of her desk. He sat down.

“Davenport, there’s something I’ve been keeping from you,” Lucretia told him. “I wasn’t sure if...well, it wasn’t safe for you to know this before. But I found a way for it...for it to be safe. And I think it’ll help for you to know.” She reached into her pocket and pulled out a small vial of dark liquid. “You need to drink this first.”

He took the bottle, uncapped it, and sniffed it. It smelled vaguely salty, and he looked back up at Lucretia with his eyebrows raised.

“It doesn’t taste  _ great _ ,” she admitted. “But it’s just a tiny little sip. You can wash it down with some water afterwards.”

Still hesitant, he held it up to the light. It was just...dark liquid. He couldn’t figure out anything else about it.

“If it helps, everyone else up here has had it,” said Lucretia. “It’s why they...know things, things you don’t know. It’s safe. I promise.”

...Well, he trusted her. Davenport shrugged and downed the liquid. The slight unpleasant saltiness was immediately overtaken by a rush of static lifting from his mind. He gasped and dropped the vial. It shattered on the floor.

“Davenport?” Lucretia said nervously. “Davenport, are you alright?”

_ Bureau of Balance. Inoculation. Seekers. The Relics...the Relic War… _

“Davenport?”

_ People died, they died because of these Relics. He watched some of them die. A whole town turned to peppermint candy… _

“Please, are you alright?”

_ Circles of black glass… _

“Davenport!”

_ Storms rising from the ocean… _

“It’ll be easier after the initial remembering, I promise--”

_ Whole armies conjured out of nothing… _

Davenport felt sick. His breathing got shallow, and he put his head down into his hands.

“You can remember the war now, right? The Relic War? Davenport, please, let me know.”

Shakily, he raised his head and nodded.

“Any...anything else?”

He gestured around the room.

“Everything about the Bureau, yes, that makes sense. That’s good.” Lucretia sighed. “Those wars, Davenport, they…” She swallowed. “They’re the reason you’re with me.”

He put his hand to his chest, feeling his heart pounding. That was why he couldn’t remember the whole rest of his life before Lucretia? Something had happened to him, during these Relic Wars, altering his mind and making him unable to speak. And Lucretia...she had stopped the wars. She was trying to make sure it never happened again. That was the whole point to the Bureau of Balance. He looked at her, trying to convey gratefulness.

“I needed to be sure that remembering the wars wouldn’t hurt you more,” Lucretia told him. “That’s why it took me so long to give this to you. But it should be easier to walk around now, and you can...you can meet the Voidfish now.”

Davenport made a questioning sound.

“Yes, it...do you want to go see it? I have a feeling you’ll like it.”

Wanting to take his mind off of the memories of death and destruction still bombarding him, Davenport followed her down the hall and through a set of doors he had never entered before. The first thing he noticed was a half-elf man with a violin sitting on the ground with his eyes closed, plucking a melancholy tune. The second thing he noticed was a tank as tall as the building with an enormous, glowing, jellyfish-like creature floating inside it. He put his hand up to his mouth, staring.

“Johann, could you give us the room for a minute?” Lucretia said softly.

“Yeah, sure,” the violin guy said. He left the room and closed the door.

Davenport slowly walked towards the tank, feeling like he was in a trance. The lights in the creature’s bell were blinking on and off. It looked like an entire galaxy was being contained inside of it. He put his hand up to the glass. For just a moment, he thought he might have seen this being before…

Somewhere, another small light blinked on, and Davenport felt a familiar, sharp shock of static cover his mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Carey is so cool I love her so much
> 
> Hope you are all doing well! I'm hangin' in there, hope you are too.
> 
> Hey, if you're eligible to vote in the upcoming US election, please vote. That's all I'm going to say on the matter right now, but holy shit, guys. Vote.
> 
> Love and stress reduction where we can. <3 ~Martin


	7. so i call upon my angels

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I managed to condense the entirety of Gerblins-Eleventh Hour into a single chapter. Enjoy! <3

Lucretia had been busy and distracted the past few days. She locked herself in the room behind her office for hours at a time and wouldn’t let Davenport come with her.

“I have too much work to do,” she told him. Her eyes were red, like she hadn’t slept in days. Or she had been crying. Or possibly both. “I’m sorry, Davenport, but I have to make sure this goes well. They’re going to be here in just a couple of weeks, and I have to...I have to make sure I can keep my story straight.”

Davenport wanted to ask  _ who _ was going to be here in a couple of weeks. No amount of confused noises made Lucretia give him a clearer answer, so he gave up. He slumped down on the dais behind Lucretia’s chair and gazed up sadly at her portrait. It always looked incomplete, for some reason. Too much blank space around the edges.

The next day, there was a huge commotion around the Bureau. Someone named Brian had deserted, apparently, and the Regulators were all itching to go after him. It was Killian, the orcish woman who was one of Lucretia’s first recruits, who got the mission, though. Davenport watched as Avi shot the cannon and Killian floated down to the planet below them.

“Wish I could have gone, too,” Carey muttered. She sat down next to Davenport dejectedly. “Me and Killian make a great team.”

He nodded sympathetically and patted her arm.

“Do you think he really found a Relic?” asked Carey. “It’s hard to believe, ‘cause we haven’t actually found any of them yet. Sucks that Brian got all enchanted by it. I mean, I never loved the guy, but I think those Relics are too much for pretty much anyone to handle.”

Davenport shrugged.

“Well, I hope  _ someone _ manages to bring it up here safely so the Director can destroy it once and for all. Kinda sucks that we’ve been in operation for almost a whole year and we’ve basically done nothing.” Carey sighed and gazed wistfully off at where Killian had disappeared in the cannon. “I wish they had sent me with her,” she murmured again.

Killian had been gone for a few days when Lucretia called Davenport into the room which was being prepared to destroy the Relics. “Davenport, I have a job for you, if you’re interested,” she said.

He was definitely interested.

“I can’t...I can’t trust anyone else to handle the Relics, but I know you won’t use them,” she explained. “I could handle them, but I think it’s better for our image if I don’t. When they arrive--and I’m almost positive that they will and that they’ll have the Gauntlet--they’re going to give it to you. You can put it in the sphere prepared for it and send it off to be destroyed.”

Davenport nodded.

“I’ll have to figure out how much to pay them,” Lucretia sighed. “For actually  _ delivering _ one of the Relics, it has to be a lot, don’t you think? Oh, they’ll insist on it. Again, I don’t think  _ I _ should be the one handing them the money...I suppose I could get--”

Davenport gestured to himself.

“You want to do it?” she said, surprised. “That seems a little--”

But he nodded insistently. He was enjoying the idea of having a job to do. Being Lucretia’s emotional support was all well and good, but nobody except for Carey seemed to have noticed that he even  _ had _ a purpose up here. To most of them, he must seem like...decoration.

“Well, alright. Sure, you can give them the payment and their token for Leon’s.” Lucretia smiled a little, but her eyes looked sad. “I’ve missed them so much, Davenport. And I’m sorry...I’m sorry that...well, nevermind.”

He was used to her saying things like that by now.

Sure enough, some more people arrived. And sure enough, they had the Phoenix Fire Gauntlet with them. Davenport took it from them. He felt a sense of relief when it was destroyed. No more circles of black glass. No more immolation of entire cities.

Davenport was proud of these three strangers. He hoped they understood that from the way he beamed up at them while he handed them their payment.

And they just kept winning, these three strangers. They came back the next time bearing a monocle rimmed in spikes--the Oculus. And then an unassuming woven belt--the Gaia Sash. Then it was Candlenights, and it was the first Candlenights that Davenport could remember when he was, well,  _ mostly _ happy. It still felt like something was missing. But then the three strangers left in the middle of the night, and returned with a rock--the Philosopher’s Stone. Lucretia was getting tense as the months passed. Spring was past its peak when the strangers left again, coming home bearing a cup--the Temporal Chalice.

Davenport found Lucretia sitting in her office with her head in her hands about a month after that. There was a weariness and a dread in her expression when she looked up at him. “Hello, Davenport,” she sighed.

“Davenport,” he greeted. He sat in the chair across from her and leaned forward to tap his knuckles against her desk. Then, with a bit of a smile, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a copper piece, sliding it across the surface towards her.

Despite her clear preoccupation, Lucretia smiled, too. “A copper for my thoughts, is that it?”

He nodded.

“It’s nothing you need to worry about--”

Davenport raised his eyebrows.

She closed her eyes briefly. “No, you’re right. That’s a lie. Everyone should be worried about this, and yet...telling them would accomplish nothing. We’re running short on time, Davenport. The scouts appeared on Midsummer last year, and Midsummer is in less than a month. I have to send the boys to get the Bell soon. I can’t...Davenport, the thought of sending them into that place...every time I consider it, it makes me want to change my mind about the entire plan. How could I do this to them?”

“Davenport?”

Lucretia met his gaze seriously. “I have to send them to Wonderland, Davenport, and hope that they succeed where I failed. They’re...they’re stronger than I am, and they’ll have each other. I truly believe they can do it, but it’s going to be... _ awful _ . They all have so much to lose, and they don’t even  _ know _ …”

Of course. The place that made Lucretia realize that she needed help, the reason she founded the Bureau...Davenport should have thought of it before. It made sense that the strangers would have to go there to find the sixth relic--the Animus Bell.

“I was so distracted in there, so preoccupied with my own suffering, I don’t even have any useful advice to give them,” Lucretia lamented. “I don’t know who runs it, or how to defeat them. I’m going to be sending them in unprepared no matter how much training I make them do between now and then. I...I still think I’m doing the right thing, Davenport, but sometimes it’s just so  _ hard _ \--” Her voice broke. 

He reached out and grabbed her hand.

She took a deep breath. “Well,” she said softly. “One way or another, it’ll all be over in a month.”


	8. are you still there?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> last chapter woot woot!!!!!

The strangers came back. Well, two of them did. One of them didn’t make it, and Davenport watched solemnly as Carey fell to the ground wailing at the news of her lost friend.

Everything felt different about this time, and not just because only two of the strangers came home. There was a storm gathering, and Davenport felt a stirring of instincts deep in his bones. Something was  _ coming _ . They were going to have to be ready.

Davenport took the Bell and brought it to be destroyed. The two strangers came into the room a little while afterwards, and he listened as Lucretia greeted them. The simultaneous relief and heartbreak was obvious in her voice as she congratulated them on succeeding and offered her condolences for their fallen companion.

For some reason, Davenport felt hollow. He knew that he should feel sad about the stranger, too, but his emotions were hidden somewhere he couldn’t reach them. He followed Lucretia, barely registering that she was instructing some Bureau employees to pick up the white spheres that the Relics had been destroyed and bring them with her. He heard an alarm go off, heard Lucretia gasp and saw her turn and rush towards her office, but the static was louder than it had been in years and he was honestly struggling to even stay upright.

A new stranger had joined the other two, and Angus was there as well. Davenport caught a glimpse of the new stranger staring at him with some sort of  _ recognition _ and deep, deep grief before he rushed towards Lucretia, arms outstretched, like he intended to shove her off the dias.

Davenport leapt in his way, trying to keep him from reaching her. The stranger pulled backwards with a shocked expression and then tried to gently nudge Davenport away, but the extra few seconds gave the guards enough time to step in and pull the stranger away. As the stranger was pulled away and Lucretia put up a partially opaque barrier around herself and the Relic’s spheres, Davenport felt something in his hand. He looked down curiously. He was holding a small flask now, uncapped.

Two of the strangers gasped suddenly and grabbed their heads.

“Oh, my gods,” Lucretia said. “Did you--did you inoculate yourselves?”

“Yes, we did,” one of them responded.

“It’s going to be too much, you’re gonna remember too much, it’s too...it’s too  _ specific _ ! You’ll be killed, why--why did you  _ do that _ ?!” exclaimed Lucretia.

“We’re stupid?” the stranger offered.

Suddenly, loudly and irresistibly, Davenport heard a voice cut through the static in his mind.

“Drink!”

He raised the flask to his lips and drank.

And then he remembered.

“Lucretia, Lucretia, you gotta help them remember,” said Barry. Barry. Not a stranger.  _ Barry _ . “It’s over. You owe them that. You already have the relics, just help them remember. Their, their--their minds are gonna shatter if you don’t.”

And Lucretia started talking. Lucretia. Not just his friend and companion over the past eleven years, but the past  _ hundred and fourteen _ . His teammate, his journal-keeper, his chronicler. His family.

“Merle, Taako, Barry--”

Names he knew. Names he had always known. How could he ever have forgotten those names?

Oh, gods.  _ Magnus… _

“We were members of the Institute of Planar Research and Exploration.”

_ The IPRE. _ Oh, how proud he had once been to call himself their--

“We made the relics to try to hide the light that they contained from the Hunger that would consume us. But it was a mistake.”

The Hunger.  _ The Hunger was coming _ . The Hunger was coming  _ now _ , and this world was going to be destroyed, and the cycles were going to continue…

“I fed a record of our mission to the Voidfish.”

Davenport remembered singing opera in front of the mouth of a cave and chastising Magnus when he brought a pet on board the ship.

The ship.  _ The Starblaster _ .

Home.

“With the light of creation reformed, I can build a barrier to keep the Hunger at bay. I can build a home that all of us can be safe in, together. Save for Lup. I'm so sorry, Taako, Barry, there was nothing I could do.”

Grief, raw as the day he had realized that Lup wasn’t coming back, tore through Davenport’s chest.

“So those are six of us. Me, Barry, Lup, Taako, Merle, Magnus, and, of course, the seventh. Our captain. When I redacted the logs to feed to the second Voidfish, I let you...I let you keep your names while eradicating any information pertaining to the mission. But, for our captain, his life was the mission. He was impossible to edit around and so, unfortunately, his name was all he kept.”

_ Captain. _

Davenport dropped the tray of coins that he hadn’t realized he had still been holding. With shaking hands, he wiped a little of the Voidfish’s ichor away from his mouth. Words were forming in his mind that hadn’t been able to form for a very long time.

_ Captain of the Starblaster, leader of the IPRE’s first interplanar mission. Lucretia, Barry Bluejeans, Lup and Taako, Merle Highchurch, Magnus Burnsides. Captain. Captain. _

“Lucretia,” he said. It was the first time he had managed to wrap his mouth all the way around her name in nearly twelve years. And there were more words, too, words that expressed his horror, his confusion, the sense of  _ betrayal _ and anger and sadness at the person he thought he could trust above everyone. “What have you done?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading!
> 
> I feel.....kinda bad about leaving it off so abruptly, but it did feel like the right place to end this particular story. I don't think I have much interest in re-writing the whole finale from Davenport's POV, and I basically covered my thoughts about the immediate aftermath in Where Do We Go (Oh) When Our Prayers Are Answered (title from yet another Lindsey Stirling song, funnily enough). I think someday I'll write some more conversations between Davenport and Lucretia post-SaS, but I'm not vibing with that quite yet. I want it to be good, so I'll wait for inspiration, and it'll probably be a separate fic.
> 
> Thanks to all who have stuck with me through this fic! I promise I'm working on more stuff, life is just...so much right now. Any and all comments and kudos are truly appreciated, and I'm @argonaut--keene on tumblr if you want to reach out! I love you! Happy Halloween! <3 ~Martin

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! I always appreciate and cherish any comments and kudos, and you can come chat and be my friend on tumblr where I'm @argonaut--keene! Hope you're doing well! I love you! <3 ~Martin


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